Gypsy Fever
by MissTake
Summary: A mysterious gypsy catches Jack’s eye on a trip to Tortuga. He has plans to bed her, but little does he know, she has plans all her own. (Rating subject to change later on.)
1. Default Chapter

**Well, this is my first PotC fic. I was kind of hesitant with it at first, I was afraid it was terribly awful. But, I guess I'll just have to wait for the reviews. I'll accept good and bad. (Bad being... constructive criticism. Not flames.) Okay, on with it then...**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean or Jack or Gibbs or Anamaria. All that belongs to the damn mouse. I do, however, own Jezebel, Isabella, Carson and who ever else you don't recognize from the movie.

**Chapter One**

"Tortuga." Were the first words that escaped Jack Sparrow's mouth when the _Black Pearl_ reached land. A brilliant smile stretched across his rugged features, and he excitedly turned to his crew, his hands and arms flailing about his sides.

"Men!" He started, grabbing the attention of all the hands on deck. "We are to row to shore shortly..." He was interrupted by the whoops and hollers of all the men on the deck. He tried screaming above them, joining in their excitement. "You are to be back 'ere in four days. If ye're not, then consider yeself a resident of Tortuga." There was a long moment of silence, then Jack exclaimed "To the boats!" And with that, every man on deck let out another yell and climbed into the boats, and others were letting them down. And of course, there were those unfortunate few who had to stay behind and make sure that no unwanted body made their way on the beloved ship.

Jack was in the front boat, rowing along side his first mate Gibbs and long-time companion Anamaria.

"So Cap'n, where is it ye're plannin' on goin' tonite?" Gibbs inquired, through short breaths as he struggled with the oars.

"There's a new pub." He replied. "'S called _The Gypsy's Lair. _'Ave you 'eard of it?" Gibbs shook his head 'no', and Jack looked to Anamaria, who shook her head from side to side also.

"Well, the more suspense the better, I imagine."

As the three reached shore, with the rest of the crew in close proximity, Jack jumped out of the rowboat, the trinkets in his hear jangling about as he landed. Jack waited for Gibbs and Anamaria to lug the boat into the secure sand, and threw the oars into the bottom of the boat. Gibbs scurried up to join him, while Anamaria waited by the boats for some of her companions.

"You're not comin', Ana?" Jack asked.

"No, me an' some o' the others are goin' to the tavern to gamble a bit."

"All right, I guess it's juss' gonna be you an' me, then aye, Gibbs?"

"Aye, Cap'n."

---

"Jezebel! What the bloody hell are you doin' just standing there? Some men at the table in the back have requested a dance from you. And they've paid very handsomely for it."

Jezebel looked up to the elder girl. It was only by two years, but sometimes, she swore that Isabella acted like her mother.

"Get a move-on!" Isabella swatted her back, and pushed her forward to the middle of the tavern. Jezebel's skirts swished and her beads jangled as she commenced the start of the band to the right of her. The music started out very slowly, and then as the beat picked up, Jezebel began to move rapidly across the floor. She twirled around, and danced with grace and conviction, raising her hands above her head, and tossing them back down at her sides.

From a few feet away, Jack and Joshamee could clearly hear the noise that was being made inside. People were clapping to the beat of music, and stomping their feet along also.

"Are you sure about this, Cap'n? Wouldn't ye rather go to the regular tavern with the others?" Jack shook his head, and slowly walked towards the doors, as if he was mesmerized. If only he knew the wonder that was waiting on the other side of the doors for him. He would be astounded beyond his wildest dreams.

As soon as he and Gibbs were both inside the doors, which had slammed shut behind them, their attention was immediately focused on the busty, young girl in the middle dancing away to the beat that the band was making. They both stood in their positon for a few long minutes, watching as her curly black hair swayed around her neck and shoulders, and her skirts rustled and twirled as she danced. Finally, when the girl turned towards the entrance, she saw the man who had been studying her from afar, and locked eyes with him. Her heart raced inside her chest... him eyeing her in such a manner made her feel rather uncomfortable. Of course, it had happened before, but not like this. No man she had ever come across looked at her like he was looking at her at that moment.

The music came to a slow halt, and ceased playing. Jezebel slowed her movements, and kept her eyes locked with the mysterious man at the door. She was thrown from her thoughts when everyone began to clap around her. She dipped her head low, and lifted her skirts off the ground, excusing herself from the public eye.

"Marvelous. Just like your mother," Isabella commented, picking up a tray full of mugs filled to the top with rum.

Jezebel fiddled with the pendant hanging around her neck. Isabella speaking of her mother caused her to lose all train of thought, and her hand involuntarily moved to her neck. The pendant was of a fine gold, hand-hammered in Mexico and beautifully designed. It wasn't any specific thing, really, it was just a plain rectangle bordered with what looked like roses and leaves. And in the middle, was her mother's name. Lucinda.

"Jack... Jack are ye alright?" Gibbs asked, a worried look sweeping across his old, tired face.

"Wha-? Oh, yes. Let's go get some rum, aye?" He flashed all of his gold teeth to his first mate. Gibbs smiled in response, and followed Jack into the darkest part of the tavern. Jack tried to grab the attention of the woman with blond hair, but she just waved her hand to him, and told him to 'wait just one bloody second.'

Isabella heaved the tray full of empty rum mugs onto the table.

"There's two men– in the far back. I need you to go and serve them, all right?"

"Melinda can't do it? My feet hurt so badly from these bloody shoes..." Isabella shot her a pleading look.

"Please? I wouldn't ask unless I really needed you to help me. Those savages o'er there keep demanding that I bring them glass after bloody glass... they're bound to be drunk senseless by the nights over."

"Okay." Jezebel said, placing her shoes underneath the bar. She came from behind it, hoping that there wasn't any broken glass or spilt rum lazily dropped on the floor.

Making her way back, she was looking down at the ground rather than looking ahead of her, and landed right in the arms of a drunk man. He grabbed her farther into his arms, and made to grab her bottom, but she smacked his face and told him to get out. He whimpered, and hung his head low, making for the exit.

She was still looking around the floor, when a husky voice called her from a booth.

"Miss?" Jack said, getting rather impatient. Jezebel looked up and instantly recognized him as the man that made her so unnervingly uncomfortable from the moment she set eyes on him. She thought him to be a little more than creepy, looking at her like that from far away, but now that she was a lot closer to him, she found him to be very handsome. 'Can't possibly be from around here, the scoundrels that crawl around day after day...' She was thrown from her thoughts again, when the sound of broken glass echoed through the tavern.

"Oh bloody hell!" Isabella yelled, from the far side of the bar. Jezebel then immediately turned her attention back to the two men, anxiously waiting for their orders to be filled.

"Oh, terribly sorry, sirs. What can I get you?" Gibbs spoke immediately, while Jack was studying her features. It was much easier now that he wasn't so far away. Curled black hair, hanging down past her breasts and a flower behind her ear, a white corsetted top, lots of jewelry hanging from her long, and defined neck, and layered skirts in different shades of deep purple. He looked back at her face again, and noticed the black make-up lining her eyelids.

"And, for you sir?" She asked. 'Oh Jesus. He's doing it again... what am I? A book?' She thought. Gibbs noticed Jezebel anxiously waiting for him to respond, and promptly nudged Jack in his side with his elbow.

"Oh, um. Rum. Please."

Jezebel nodded, and hurried back to the bar so she could fulfill the order as quickly as possible and not have to wait upon the man any longer. She didn't like being studied and looked upon as an object. Isabella made her way to Jezebel.

"Do you know who it is you're serving, Jez?" She asked, looking over her shoulder and at Jack and Gibbs sitting in the dark.

"No. But, the man to the right– the one with the long hair, he's been eyeing me a bit. It's making me uncomfortable..."

"_That's_ Captain Jack Sparrow. The captain of the _Black Pearl_." Jezebel perked up.

"Really, now?" A giant smile came across her large lips, and she turned back to look at him. Isabella cocked her head to the side, and finally caught wind of the plans that were drawing up in her younger friend's head.

"Ooh, no, Jezebel. I know what you're thinking... that ship is absolutely off limits. If he catches you there... especially with his..." Jezebel placed her hand on Isabella's shoulder.

"But he _won't_ catch me. I'm the best there is." She stated with pride.

Isabella responded with a shake of her head, and a gloomy look on her face.

"It's your funeral, darling."

"When do they make leave?"

"They're leaving in four days. Making a little pit-stop here to stock up on rum and the kind company of a few tavern whores." She looked back at the table.

"Looks like he's already got a whore on his lap..." Isabella looked beyond Jezebel's head and to Jack's table.

"Oi! That isn't Maria, is it? Damn... it is! That bloody 'ore. I fired her just last night!" Just when she was going to break into a run and snatch Maria off Jack's lap, Jezebel stopped her.

"No. Don't. I saw her on the street just today, had a line of men in front of her at the Inn. Maybe she'll be good for business again, 'eh?" Isabella considered this, but then remembered she had large, sweaty men shelling out shilling after shilling for glasses of rum.

"Get back to work. And make sure Maria isn't keepin' the money for herself this time, alright?" Jezebel nodded her head, but stayed in her position.

"Jezebel? Are you alright?" Jezebel looked up at the vaguely familiar voice.

"Carson? Oh, Carson! Where have you been?" She threw her arms around her old friend. "I thought you died!"

He let out a hearty laugh.

"It's been so long... Where did you go?"

"Well, I, uh... the ship. You know, the merchant vessel my mum sent me on?" She nodded her head.

"But that was 6 years ago, did something happen? You said you would only be gone a few months..."

"Our ship got raided. We were in the Indian Sea, to deliver cargo to some merchants in India. They left me and a few others alive. Said they needed a few good, young men to help run the ship. Not the best pirates, I might add. I told the captain that I would need to get passage off in Tortuga if we passed by. I had a lovely young lady there waiting for me." He nudged her chin with his knuckles.

Jezebel's face contorted with displeasure.

"It took you 6 years to come back?"

"I couldn't do anything about it! The captain wouldn't go near the Caribbean, and by the time he finally even considered the idea, we were halfway to England!"

Jezebel kept the same look on her face, unaffected by his statement.

"I waited for you. I stayed here, when I should be in America with the others. 6 years is entirely too long."

"I'm sorry, you know I would never..."

"Mother died." All the colour in Carson's face drained, and his brilliant green eyes lost their twinkle.

"What? How?"

"Two years ago. We came here, and she caught pneumonia. I told Manny to go ahead, and leave us behind. We'll see each other again."

"Oh, Jezebel–" He tried grabbed her and taking her into his arms again, but she resisted.

"I need to get back to work." She grabbed two mugs off the bar and headed back to where Jack and Gibbs were waiting.

Walking back in only her bare feet, Jezebel heard the shrill screech that she hated so much coming from Maria. She never did warm up to her. Maria always had something to say to Jezebel and Isabella, whether it be a good comment or a snarl through gritted teeth. Well, those of which she had left.

In a quick movement, a woman threw her mug at a gruff man sitting across from her, and Jezebel stepped on a small piece of the glass on the floor. She dropped the mugs on the floor, and lifted her foot only to step in more glass with the unwounded foot. The woman stood, realizing that she did not succeed in hitting the man across from her, and swung her fist in his face, knocking him square in the jaw. After that, the whole tavern broke out into a fight and people were running amok. Maria screamed, and ran to the front of the tavern. Jack stood hurriedly and kneeled down next to Jezebel.

"Can you stand?"

Jezebel tried lifting herself with her hands and put her feet flat on the floorboards, but when she did, more blood poured from the wounds.

"Oh.. Hell.. No, I can't." Jack lifted her up off the ground, and set her back down on the table to look at the cuts on her feet.

"Your left one's only got a few small cuts on it, but yer right's got a piece o' glass stuck way down in it. I suspect there aren't any doctors around, aye?" He asked, looking her in the eyes.

"No. There aren't." Jack nodded his head.

"Gibbs, take this young lady back to the ship and see if ye can get the glass out of her foot. I'll be there shortly."

"Aye, Cap'n." Gibbs roughly lifted Jezebel off of the table, much to her displeasure, but he was right, there weren't any other doctors in all of Tortuga, and without proper cleaning, it would get infected, and she would have to get it amputated.

Gibbs carried Jezebel in his arms through Tortuga.

"Really, this isn't necessary," she began.

"What are ye talkin' about, missy?"

"This. I'm sure I can take care of my foot just fine..."

"Don't be silly, we'll have it out in no time." He smiled coyly at her.

--

"Bloody hell!" Jezebel gripped the best post with white knuckles. Charlie, the Black Pearl's cabin boy, (as well as amateur doctor,) had taken out the rather large piece of glass this his bare hands. He was now in the process of dressing the wound, and Gibbs was fetching a needle and string.

The rum burned the small wounds on the left foot, but her right foot throbbed in pain. Gibbs entered the room with a spool of black thread and a small needle, and handed it to Charlie.

"I'm afraid tha' this is goin'ta 'urt a bit, miss." He warned her, gently patting her calf.

"Just get it over with." She replied through gritted teeth.

He put the string through the eye of the needle, and poured rum in a cloth to sterilize it. Once he was through, he jabbed the needle in her foot without so much as a warning. Jezebel let out a smal scream, and when he pulled to needle through and over-lapped the place he stitched before, Jezebel felt faint and collapsed on the bed. Charlie eyed her curiously, and checked her breathing.

"All for the better, I imagine." He said in a barely audible voice, and continued to sew her up.

--

Jack threw a few shillings on the floor of the room a wench had brought him into. The blond-hair, blue-eyed woman picked it up, and nodded her 'thank yous' as she scurried out the door.

He readjusted his hat on his head. It had been a wild evening.

--

Jezebel woke with a start, and felt the pulsing rushing through her foot into her leg. Charlie tightly wrapped a cloth around her foot and ankle, and fastened it with pins.

She felt dizzy, and all of what she had consumed that day made its way back up the entrance. She rushed out of the cabin, and couldn't hold it in any longer. She leaned the upper portion of her body over the railing and spilled all of her contents out in the muggy Tortuga water.

"Oh... that's disgusting." She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and stepped back from the side. She looked around her. There was a man, who appeared to be about 40, or possibly older, leaned back against a wall... snoring. She looked up in the crow's nest. That man was also sleeping.

"Perfect." She grinned in satisfaction. After tonight, maybe she would be able to go to America after all.


	2. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer: Yadda yadda. Don't own it. Wish I did. **

**Chapter Two**

Jezebel looked up at the sky. The stars were out, and shining brighter then she'd ever seen them. How long had she slept for?

She decided that she was going to explore the ship, and when she found what she was looking for, she was going to get what she wanted and get the hell out.

The only flaw: no plan.

What if she was caught? What if Captain Sparrow returned and found her? A million questions reeled through her mind, and her heart pounded inside her chest. And not to mention the insufferable throbbing ache she felt every time she took a step.

She walked over to the man leaning against the wall, just to make sure that he was really asleep. At first, she waved her hand in front of his eyes to see if they would flutter, next, she gently shook him. When he didn't move, she shook him harder. He didn't wake. She leaned down closer, and moved her finger across his bottom lip. She brought it to her nose. It smelled of alcohol. She laughed to herself. "He should be out for while."

She looked into the crows nest one last time. 'He could be faking.' She looked again. His mouth was open, and he was slung over the sides.

"Or perhaps not..."

"We're ye talkin' to?"

Jezebel's heart stopped. She closed her eyes and slowly turned around. But when she opened them, it was not who she expected.

"Oh, um... I was... looking for the loo."

He looked at her queerly."It's right in there," he pointed into the room she just left, "across the way in that door by the chest."

"Oh. Thank you." She nodded her head and turned her back to him. She rolled her eyes when she was sure he could not see her face, and entered the room. Closing the door, she noticed Gibbs standing in his same position and looking at her. He looked confused. When the door closed, she leaned against it and heaved a sigh.

She looked around the room. It was much larger than all of the other rooms on any ship she had been on. The bed was rather large, occupying a third of the space in the room, and a desk next to that... and cupboard, and then a chest of drawers.

"Wow." And it was _certainly_ much larger than her room at the tavern. Willis had never been a very generous person when it came to things of that nature. He was a greedy cheapskate no matter who you happened to be, and remained that way until he died. He didn't leave anything to anyone, including the tavern. Eventually, Isabella and Melinda took it over together once they whored enough money together.

She eyed the cabinet on the far wall. Naturally, she was interested. She enjoying going through other people's things, it made her feel like she knew them afterwards. Or... she could just take something that she particularly liked.

Jezebel limped over to the cabinet.

-

Jack returned to his ship for a night's rest. He kept thinking that there was something... or _someone_, rather, that need attending to. On well. He'd deal with it in the morning. He climbed up the ropes on the side of the ship, and jumped over the rest of the way, landing on anything but his own two feet.

He stood, and brushed himself off, and tried to play off the incident as if it never happened. His first mate approached him.

"Evenin', Mister Gibbs." He patted Gibbs' back.

"Evenin', Captain."

"How did things go?"

"You know the lass, the one you had me bing back to the ship?"

"Yes..."

"Found her lurking around just a few minutes ago."

Jezebel opened the cabinet. It was full of rum. Rum from Mexico, from England, Brazil, the Caribbean, and India.

"Man sure does like his alcohol." She grabbed a bottle of the Brazilian, and took a swig. It stung her throat, but she enjoyed it. The only run she had been around was the kind in the kegs at the tavern. And it wasn't very goo, so she stayed as far away from it as she could manage. But this – this was very good.

She removed the bottle from her lips again, and noticed that there was half a bottle left. 'Might as well not waste this little luxury...' she thought. She raised the bottle to her lips again, and began to drink.

Jack silently walked to his cabin, and opened the door. Once the door was open, he leaned against the door frame and watched her. He looked a little closer at the bottle in her hand. It was his Brazilian rum. It was strong... stronger than most, and she had drank the entire bottle!

After taking the very last sip, Jezebel turned around towards the door. And there he was. She stayed in her place, and watched him saunter over to her with a smirk across his face.

"'Ello luv." He look the bottle from her hand, looking at the label. "For a thief, you have great taste in yer rum."

She swallowed hard. Her head was spinning. It probably wasn't a brilliant idea to drink a large quantity of rum after losing the day's food intake over the railing.

"I'm... not a thief." She slurred.

Jack quirked an eyebrow. "Ye stole me best rum, from _my_ cabinet, in _my_ room, and ye drank it. I'm pretty sure tha' qualifies ye as a thief." Jezebel started to laugh. For what, she didn't know.

Jack found that amusing, and laughed with her. Jezebel stepped back a little, and stumbled over a chair. Jack caught her by the waist.

"Whoa, can't have ye hurtin' yeself again, can we?" He winked at her.

She scowled at him, and pried his hands from her sides.

Jezebel tried walking again, only to fall back into his harms. Her face was down near his chest, and he was holding on to her arms for support. She looked up at him; he was still smiling.

"I need to..." Her limbs went limp and she collapsed in his arms. "Shit." He struggled to help her up, and promptly grabbed her legs up so that he was holding her like a mother holds her child. He laid her on his bed, and covered her up with a thin white sheet. She would have the worst headache in the morning.

Jack silently walked to the door, and closed it behind him.

-

Jezebel woke with the sun beating down on her face. Her head didn't hurt as much as she had expected it would, and she downed the entire bottle of that rum... Something was wrong. But she wasn't going to take the time to figure it out, so she closed her eyes once more, and turned over so that her face was buried in the pillow.

She lifted her face off the pillow, and looked to the right of the bed. And there was Jack, strung over a large red chair like he was the Queen of England. Hell, he pranced around like a queen.

He laughed. "We thought you died, luvvie!" He picked up a bottle off the floor, and drank, all the while keeping his eyes on Jezebel.

"Why do you call me that?" She aked.

"What?"

"'Luvvie'?"

"There's nothin' else to call you. I don' know yer name, either..."

"It's... Catherine." She lied.

"Well, Catherine, you've been out for about a day an' a 'alf now."

Her eyes widened. That meant that tonight was the Black Pearl's last night in Tortuga. Her last chance.

"And since tonight is our last night," it had been like he was reading her mind, "Would ye like to stay aboard an' 'ave a meal wif me an' a few o' the others?"

Jackpot. He'd get drunk... she'd take what he had stolen... America was only a steal away.

She sat up. "Sure."

"Wonderful!" He jumped up and waved his hands around.

"But, uh, I'm gonna go back to the tavern. Isabella must be worried sick."

Really, all she needed was time to think up and plan and a person to help.

"Alright, 'ow about I row ye back to shore, and come an' get ye later?"

She nodded. "Okay."

-

"Jezebel! Where the bloody hell have you been? I've been worried sick!" Isabella proclaimed loudly, smacking Jezebel on the arm. She noticed that her foot was wrapped up in a bandage. "What happened?"

"I stepped in glass during that fight the other night," she explained.

"You're all right, though?"

"I should be... Some cabin boy sewed me up."

"A cabin boy?"

"Yeah." She smiled. "On the _Black Pearl_."

"You didn't take his loot yet, did you?"

"No. Damn _Captain Sparrow_ was watching over me the whole fucking time."

"Well, Carson's been around here a few times asking for you. He looked troubled. Something happen?"

"Yeah," She paused. "He came back."

-

"What is it you said her name was?" Gibbs chased after Jack down the stairs.

"Catherine."

"Hmm."

"Whatd'ya mean 'hmm'?"

"What I mean is, when she was sleepin', I noticed a gold necklace 'round her neck that said _Lucinda_."

"Maybe it's not hers."

"'Er maybe she's lyin' to ye, Captain. There was somethin' peculiar 'bout that girl."

"You think there's something peculiar 'bout every girl tha' comes aboard this ship, ye old sea dog."

Gibbs stopped Jack in mid-prance. "Ye like 'er, don' ye, Cap'n?"

Jack stayed quiet for a moment. Did he?

"I dunno, Gibbs. There's juss' somethin'... _familiar_ about her."

Gibbs nodded his head. "Aye, I suppose so, Cap'n."

-

"Ow! That's the third time you've burned me!"

"Sorry! I told you that you shouldn't have had me do it." Isabella said, with a brush between her teeth. She placed the metal rod back into the flames, and pulled up half of Jezebel's hair, piling it on top of her head. She leaned over, and opened a drawer, pulling out a silver hair comb. Isabella placed it neatly in amongst the rest of Jezebel's hair.

"What's this?" Jezebel asked, fingering what Isabella placed in her hair.

"It was my grandmother's. Lovely, isn't it?"

"Yes, but, I couldn't."

"Nonsense. The stones match your eye colour." And they did. The stones were a midnight blue, almost purple colour, and Jezebel's eyes were the colour of the sky just beginning to turn dark, where light hits nothing.

"All done." Isabella stated proudly, letting the last full curl drop down in it's place.

Jezebel sighed staring at her reflection. "This has to work. I've got to get out of here, Isabella. Or I'll be reduced to that of a common tavern whore..." She allowed her words to drift off while she toyed with her necklaces.

Isabella placed her hands on Jezebel's shoulder, and whispered in her ear.

"Let's hope you're so lucky."

-

"'Ey! You!" Jezebel tagged over a small boy, most likely around the ages of 10 and 11.

"Yeah?" He asked, running up to her.

"How would you like to help me?"

He ran a dirty hand through his even dirtier hair. "Well, that all depends on the task, miss. And that could cost you a fee."

"If you help me, you'll get 10 percent of what we take."

The boy cocked his head to the right. "What is it exactly you're havin' me doin', ma'am?"

"We're raiding a pirate ship."

And at that, the boys eyes grew wide, and the frown he was wearing before turned into a sly grin.

-

"Okay. You wait here. With any luck at all, he'll be drunk within the next hour or so."

"How will I know when you're ready?"

"I'll whistle, and you come out. When you reach the ship, we'll go down, take what we want, and you'll go back. I'll catch up with you later."

Peter nodded, and scrunched his eyebrows together again.

"But what happens if we get caught? We can't really expect a pirate to go easy on us, can we?"

"And that's precisely why we need to be quick, and you need to obey my orders."

Peter nodded once more, and walked alongside Jezebel. When they reached the docks, Peter sat down and waded his bare feet in the water.

"Miss Jezebel?"

"Yes?" She asked, turning to face him.

"Why is it that we're doin' this, ma'am?"

Jezebel smiled and sat next to Peter, letting her own feet wade in the water. The salt water stung her closing wounds, but it was nothing she couldn't handle.

"I plan to go to America."

Peter grinned wide. "America? Really?"

She nodded her head. "Yes."

"What's in America?"

"Family."

"So, if they're there, why aren't you with them?"

Jezebel began to explain to him how her family traveled from place to place, and then, once they reached this island, her mother came down with the illness that took her life.

"And I've been here ever since."

His eyes widened again, in the manner that only children possess.

"You're a... gypsy?"

"Of some sort, yes."

He jumped up excitedly, splashing water everywhere.

"So you can do voodoo and everything?"

He waved his hands around, emphasizing his words. Jezebel laughed at him. "No, not quite."

"You know, I heard that the _Black Pearl_ was cursed. And every night, under the moonlight, the sailors on it would turn into skeletons."

"Aye," a voice breathed. Jezebel jumped, splashing water on her legs, and on her skirts. "True story."

Jack smiled at the freshened up Jezebel. And stretched out his arm to her.

"Miss Catherine, are ye ready to go?"

Peter looked confused, and mouthed the name 'Catherine' to Jezebel. She winked at him, and put a finger up to her lips. She turned back to Jack, and grabbed his arm. "As ready as I'll ever be."

It wasn't very "pirate like" to be as kind as Jack was being to her. And she hoped... and she _prayed_ that Jack wouldn't come to like her. And, of course, that her plan fell through as she hoped it would.

Jack lowered himself into the rowboat first. The _Pearl_ was only a few hundred yards away, and Jezebel hoped that Peter could swim that far.

If not, she would surely be doomed.

-

**Please review! **

**And, I would like to thank Jennifer and Spunky Sparrow, for being my first two reviewers. )**


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